Thirteen is a Lucky Number
by Racheakt
Summary: Everyone wants a heart, even those incapable of want. A portait of organization XIII and the reasons they seek for complete being.


13

_**A/N: This fic signifies not only my first foray into the Kingdom Hearts fandom, but also my entry into the double digits of fiction submissions. Jubilation!**_

_**13-The Key of Destiny**_

They are fake memories, Roxas knows. Shadows of a life he has never led, nor will likely ever lead.

But is that so important? He finds himself asking that question more and more often. He knows that a Sombody's memory is a mutable thing, it changes, dims, grows. A Somebody sees and interprets, their memory is imperfect and ruled by their perceptions.

Why would it be any different for a Nobody?

Is it so vital or significant that these memories are not, in fact, his? He remembers them, doesn't he?

_**12-The Savage Nymph**_

Larxene knows she's cruel. She knows that she's evil, and that karma has no deadlines. Sooner or later what she's given out will come back around…

But she doesn't care. And it is only the darkness of solitude that hears her when she pours out her fear and misery. The pain of a life, a not-her, but still real enough that it hurts. It never shows on the surface. To the others she is 'Larxene' and that is enough; 'Larxene' is sufficient for her to take revenge on the world.

And so she hunts and harms, lashing out without remorse as the predator within her claws at her chest, snarling, _begging _for some form of release. It isn't that she's lost her sanity, but she's suffered for so long. Somehow, someway, she needs to let it all out.

Once that is done, she can resume her quest to become the person she used to be.

_**11-The Graceful Assassin **_

Marluxia traces the petals with a delicate touch, taking exquisite care not to break the fragile bloom.

The scent does not evoke the memories, the feeling he thinks it ought. It was important to him, something significant, he _knows_ this, but somehow it evades him. The ever elusive scent of summer days, starry nights in a place where trees whisper in the wind. Laughter and a face-

No… it's gone again.

Marluxia gazes regretfully down at the flower. It lies in his palm, devoid of meaning once more. A puzzle that no amount of mere thought can pierce.

His face goes stony and he crushes it into an unrecognizable mass.

_**10- The Gambler of Fate**_

Luck has always been on his side.

When the heartless devoured his heart he should have died, but he didn't and became Luxord.

Yes, Luck has always been on his side, which is why he's not overly worried with the outcome of the Organization, or that of Kingdom Hearts. He has always found a way to survive and he always will.

Which is one of the reasons he looks forward to a battle with the keybearer. It was fascinating, horrifying, magnificent, the boy- Sora's –luck. The deck was stacked against him, the dice were loaded, the odds were outrageous, yet he prevailed and continued to prevail.

It was fascinating for him, Luxord, a born gambler. Fate was a cantankerous thing, you had to treat it right, love it. You know the cards and you know the dice until you play the game by your rules. Until you _are_ the game.

But this Sora kid… _Fate loved him._

And so, Luxord wondered, who does fate love more?

_**09- The Melodious Nocturne**_

Of all the Nobodies, Demyx was the one least effected by the change.

He had never had much darkness in life and as such maintained a stronger grasp on that life after death, at times… he could almost, _almost_ imagine he still had a heart.

He ran his hands over the strings, savoring the rhythm, the melody of the cords. One-two-three. One-two-three…

He sighs.

Its not the same, the feeling is different, the quality is difficult to place, like a single off-key note in an otherwise flawless medley. He played the cord again, trying to catch that note, but it eluded him.

But that was life, wasn't it? You had to play the song as best you could until the end of your time on stage, there were sour notes, and bitter nocturnes that make the ladies cry, but in the end it's just one cord in the _Real_ song, and that song is beautiful in the end, no matter how you play it.

And so He plays.

_**08- The Flurry of Dancing Flames**_

Roxas had once asked him if everyone in the organization was evil. He hadn't replied directly, instead electing to laugh and change the subject.

It is only later that he gives serious thought to the question.

If he wasn't evil, he would likely not be betraying everyone closest to him, that is true. But those same individuals willingly collaborate with the darkness and work towards their own survival, regardless of who gets in the way. So the question was rather arbitrary, wasn't it?

Then again, Roxas hadn't ever cut down noncombatants or leave the heartless to run amok, when he encountered them he fought with abandon. It was one of the things that puzzled Axel about the youngest member of their little group.

When questioned by Xemnas, Roxas says he just doesn't like to see others suffer.

Strangely, this gives Axel his answer. And ever after Roxas has a disciple.

_**07- The Luna Diviner**_

The moon's pull in gone from him, the hot, heady pull that stirred his blood and made him strong in the mad glee of battle. The visions in the night, the ever-present phantoms of thought, all gone.

He was eternal grateful to his master, THE master, he had taken away the frenzied curse, given him a new mind, free of the mad energy he could not control. The calm is a welcome relief, and he is content to serve this master.

But sometimes, just sometimes he misses the constant companionship he can almost remember, the ever watchful silver eye. And he wonders, could there have been other things lost by the way, lost when his heart was stolen? The mad red, the rage, is all he can remember; but somehow he can't shake the feeling that something else is missing as well…

A vision of falling leaves… cool mountains…

Saix shakes his head. He had work to do, and it wasn't important anyway.

_**06- The Cloaked Schemer**_

As Ienzo, he had clung to the shadows, he didn't mix and mingle, it was generally too much trouble. He had his books and his thoughts; and his friends, fellow students; what else did he need?

Then _she_ had come into his life. A simple maid working at the castle, they caught each other's eye and he learned to blush. It was she who taught him how to smile.

That was a long time ago.

He hasn't smiled in a while.

Zexion's gaze is fixed ahead as he walks, looking neither to the right, nor to the left, there is no sign on his face to betray nonexistent emotion.

Because he has no emotion, he is a Nobody, a nothing, just the remnants of a man who had once been called Ienzo. That lingering ache in his chest proves this. He has no feelings.

It is good to remember this.

It makes it so much easier to ignore the loss of what he barely had..

_**05- The Silent Hero**_

He doesn't talk much.

Lexeaus looks up at the clouds, watching as the wispy masses move along in the wind. The other members don't know why he does it, there is no logical reason, and emotion is out of the question. Why the geologist in their midst would be so interested in the sky escapes them.

He doesn't talk much.

But he remembers.

The laughter of children, the feeling of small hands holding to his hair for dear life as he carries them on his shoulders. The taste of a kiss and the feeling of a fragile, slight frame pressed against his own bulk so tenderly. A tiny cottage by a meadow under a blue, blue sky and clouds...

They wouldn't understand. And so he doesn't tell them.

He doesn't speak, because he remembers.

_**04- The Chilly Academic**_

Vexen sits alone in his darkened laboratory, hunched over his worktable. His eyes smart in the terrible light and his ears right with the silence, the only sound is the scratch-scratch of his pen in his notebook as he records his observations of the day.

He does so out of habit, out of necessity for their collective survival. What had once held such sway over him was long gone along with his heart and the Other of his previous life. Pride in one's work, and the joy and rush of discovery, both are forever lost to him.

He looks over at the heart, floating inside one of the lesser Nobodies. It shines with a gentle inner radiance visible even on the surface of the as it steadily floats upwards through the test subject. Just before it breaks the surface he- Vexen -reaches out to grab it, but like a phantom it passes through his fingers.

He can't be certain if it's because of the heart or because of him. After a moment the heart glimmers, mocking him and his science, and disappears.

He watches the spot where it vanished for a long moment, his hand balling into a fist at his side until he goes back to writing.

_**03- The Whirlwind Lancer**_

In life he was a solider, trained in the Radiant Garden by the best, SOLDIERs, SeeDs, Biskmatars… As one of the original six his field of study had been strategy and tactics, the arts of war.

When he died, falling in the line of duty, he never departed from the role. His chain of command was the only difference. In that respect, Xaldin is likely the one least affected in his everyday life. He never really needed a heart, not in the truest sense, as long as he had orders to follow and a definite goal, he was content.

Upon occasion he reflects on this, and it occurs to him that there was something, some faint remnant of memory that might have been important...

But it doesn't really matter, he's a soldier, he knows his duty and follows his orders to the letter. Such thoughts detract from the mission.

_**02- The Freeshooter**_

As a Somebody Braig had been a boisterous, carefree man, at times foolhardy, and Xigbar bears the scars to prove it.

Xigbar reached up to touch the patch covering his right eye. He wondered what it would be like to take a real risk again, to feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins, his heart hammering in his chest; to laugh at a joke or prank.

Xigbar cracks a smile at himself, his reflection does the same. It is important that he see this every morning. It reminds him why he keeps going, why he _has_ to keep going.

He has to keep going because he remembers just enough to know that his studies of physics aren't everything, that the numbers he studies were not his life and that he didn't loose his eye to a falling textbook.

He has to regain his heart and find out why it was he saw fit to loose his eye.

_**01- The Superior**_

He surveys the gathered splendor of Kingdom Hearts in the sky above. They were all gone, Saix left just moments ago and Xemnas knows he won't return.

It doesn't matter, of course. It will all be over soon, Kingdom hearts is on the verge of completion and nothing will stop that. He looks up at it now, in its full splendor.

What will it feel like? To have a heart again after all this time? What will the difference between the half-remembered ghosts and real, fresh emotion? Will it be a welcome feeling or will it be abrupt and difficult?

Will it drive him mad? Or will it be the most peaceful, welcome experience?

And will he feel grief for the multitude of friends he has sent to their deaths?

In case anyone cares to look, each of the Organization is lamenting a different emotion. Care to guess who has what?


End file.
